The Rescue
by angeladaniellemarie
Summary: The story picks up in Mockingjay, while Peeta lies at the hands of President Snow in the Capitol and Katniss is away in District 13. Instead of staying behind while Gale and the others attempt to rescue Peeta, she joins them in search of him.


**The Rescue**

I'm running, fast and far and painfully to reach him. I'm wailing, with so much longing and concern that the sounds croak out in sobs. The sting in my throat is minimal compared to the damage my heart has faced. I jerk my head to my left and realize I am being followed. The stampede charging toward me is armed, poised to attack as they approach, closer and closer...

BAM! I'm thrust against the wall of an abandoned house as a Peacekeeper to my right weighs down on me. My hands fumble along my belt and retrieve the knife given to me by Gale before we took our separate routes, thankful for this last-minute token. I drive the blade into the woman's side, catching her off guard long enough to push her away and stab her in the chest. Without looking back, I leap over her mangled body and continue running toward the circle.

I'm suddenly overcome by anger, a passion hate for these monsters that have driven him and I apart. I stumble over dead bodies, mutilated limbs left and right, victims of the pods that set off before I arrived at this street. I make my way around the small clumps of fire that remain, moving with more stealth as I hear the mob behind me advancing.

When I reach the circle, I survey my options, take note of the tall metal gates around the building, the many guards that surround its perimeter. Finally, I decide that my best choice would be to shoot directly at the pod I know lies just before the opening of the gate, triggering an explosion that will, if not kill, at least distract the defending Peacekeepers. I pull out an arrow from the sheath slung across my back and position it securely on my bow. In a matter of seconds, I let go of the string, send the arrow flying across the circle and straight into a post that crumbles to the ground, setting off bomb after bomb around the vicinity of the building.

I start toward the shattered gates and, even before I take in the damage, before I am fully aware of my courageous stunt, I find myself trampling over injured and paralyzed bodies, climbing up the steps to the magnificent stone doors that are the entrance to President Snow's mansion.

I brace myself for the army that is sure to welcome me the moment I step inside. I'm engulfed by fear for a brief amount of time before I feel an even stronger sensation, one of absolute power and determination.

They want me to surrender. My hands begin to shake with rage. They're expecting me to give in. I step toward the doors with more force, more confidence. They're telling me to let go. But I can't do that. I made a promise to keep him alive.

And promises are not to be broken.

The doors swing open and I am greeted by not one, not two, but no Peacekeepers. This is a trap. I steel myself and walk a few steps into the long corridor, glancing left and right, pausing momentarily to listen for any signs of movement heading in my direction.

The mansion is ravishing. From its marvelous painted ceiling, to the beautiful tapestries that drape the walls, and the glossy marble floors that sweep the walkway. The chandelier above my head is stunning, graced by over thousands of sparkling crystals and rings of pure gold.

The Capitol.

How fabulous life is for its citizens, those who don't have to worry about unsustainable jobs, miserable living quarters, and the fact that they might instantly keel over due to starvation.

These are the people I hate. The reason I am fighting. The cause of the rebellion.

I continue on my way, quietly and furtively, though I am surely being watched with my every step. Where are you? I will find you. And I will kill you.

All at once the doors to an elevator on my right slide open and reveal its emptiness. Empty, except for the lone white petals scattered along the inside of the compartment. The petals of a rose, which are undoubtedly meant for me. The image of this flower in my bedroom returns, the memory of President Snow in the study, the stench of blood overpowering the scent of his rose. I can feel him now, manipulating me, pulling me toward him. Calling me to my own death. But this isn't about me. It's about my promise to all of Panem and my promise with Haymitch.

Haymitch! What must he be thinking right now? I can almost see him glowering, uttering curses and preparing Hell for me when I get back to District 13. If I get back to District 13.

My priority now is to rescue, and rescue I will.

**Part II:**

No one is following me. And yet I feel dangerously unsafe. My eyes dart in all directions, surveying the room before me. He's here, he must be. Our sources told us he was being imprisoned in an underground dungeon, so here I am. But where is he?

It was less than challenging to get down to this level. However, if it weren't for the Avoxes coming to my aid, I may well be in the hands of Peacekeepers right now. I stormed my way through the corridor, flinging doors open, in search of stairs or any other form of transportation that could take me underground. I refused to take the elevator. Surely the moment I stepped on, the doors would lock me inside and shoot straight up to the President's quarters. Scrambling away from the haunting petals, I smashed into a heavily armed Peacekeeper, towering over me viciously. I was thrust onto the floor, expecting his strong blow, but it never came. Instead, I found him knocked out of consciousness, falling flat against the marble beneath him. Behind, stood two young Avoxes, one holding onto a full tray of lamb stew, hot coffee, and a mound of cake about the size of my head, while the other held a large, broken vase. It was almost comical to think that this young man saved my life by bashing a pot of clay against the Peacekeeper's head, but I couldn't complain.

The one carrying the tray, an older man with dark brown hair and sullen eyes, dropped the items he clutched and reached his hand out to pull me up. I whispered thanks as the other, a handsome young boy with auburn hair and an ashen face, urged me to follow him into the hall a few paces down from where we stood.

"I'm looking for-" I started, but the man cut me off with a stern look, suggesting it best not to speak. After all, only moments before, a Peacekeeper had tried to attack me. Who knew how many more were already aware of my presence and were charging toward me that very second? So I obediently trailed after the two, assuming they knew exactly who I was searching for. And they did.

The dark haired man whipped out a metal key and jammed it into the hole on the door in the far edge of the hallway. The door swung open and I was greeted by a long flight of stairs, leading to... what? I couldn't see beyond the first few steps. Nothing but darkness.

The young boy nodded his head and looked into my eyes reassuringly. Whatever lay beyond the pitch black was something I would find out soon enough.

And here I stand, now in the heart of the mansion's dungeon, searching.

I make a mental note to add the two Avoxes to my list of people to save. If they're even available for saving after the trouble I've cost them...

I'm immediately pulled out of my thoughts as high-pitched screams pierce the air around me. My body grows tense as I recognize the voice. It belongs to Peeta.

**Part III:**

I'm swiftly on my feet again, running as hard as I'm able to against my better judgment. His cries keep me going, faster and faster until my entire body is pulsing with adrenaline. I have to reach him... I have to...

"Peeta!" I shout, "Peeta, I'm coming!" Not the best idea, perhaps, what with being in President Snow's mansion and all, but I just can't shake his cries of pain out of my head. _What are they doing to you?_

Suddenly, the weeping stops. I gradually come to a halt and steady my breathing. The lights flicker on and I find myself at the center of a long and narrow passageway. But there are no doors. I repeatedly shout Peeta's name, coming up without a response.

"Peeta! Where are you?" Going into hysterics, I start hammering against the cold walls, as if pounding my fists against the stone might bring him to me. "Peeta!" I call, tears formulating behind my closed eyelids. I slump to the hard ground and sit still for a few moments, wiping back tears and trying to collect my thoughts.

_Katniss, move!_ I tell myself. _You can't stop here. Find him..._

The silence ringing in my ears brings me to my feet. I steadily take a few steps forward, feeling the walls for some crevice, an opening to the room where Peeta is being held captive. And then I hear it. The faint yet indescribably familiar sound of buzzing.

Tracker jackers.

I push against the wall directly in between the buzz and myself, achieving momentary relief when it slides open. The relief quickly slips away once the contents of the room present themselves to me.

The all-white room with no doors, no windows, and no furniture is littered with empty tracker jacker nests. Since the buzzing stopped, I assume the mutts disappeared into an invisible shoot when I came in. The room is empty, except for the sickly golden haired boy sitting in front of the television, head in his lap, cradling his knees in pain. Peeta's soft sobs aren't nearly loud enough to drown out the sound coming from the program, which I now realize is a replay of our first Hunger Games. On the screen, I see him and I, huddled in a cave, holding on to each other to preserve warmth.

_"And right when your song ended, I knew-just like your mother-I was a goner..."_ I hear Peeta say as a pang of guilt and grief shoots across my chest. The sorrow only lingers briefly because, before I know it, Peeta has looked up and noticed me for the first time.

Expecting a warm welcome, I reach out to him, tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision, as I catch a glimpse of Peeta's hand reaching for me as well. But his arms do the opposite of embrace me. In fact, his arms do not wrap around me at all. The hand pulled out before me turns into a hard fist that jams itself against the side of my face.

The weight of Peeta's heavy build on top my ribs cuts off my air supply completely. The last sensation I am aware of before blacking out is the strong arms of another party wrenching Peeta away from me.

Coming from the television in an almost unintelligible haze, _"You don't have much competition anywhere..." _are the last words I hear.

**Conclusion:**

Gale's arms are embracing me in a protectively tight manner. The room is still spinning, but I suppose that's a step above not being able to see anything at all. The shining white fluorescents are blinding, making it difficult for me to secure my vision. _What happened to me?_

My jaw, painful and swollen, is still recovering from some sort of blow. My ribs ache with every breath. I rub my fingers along my sides, trying to massage the discomfort away. The bruises on my arms suggest I've been attacked. As I take note of my body's current state, my senses gradually come back to me. Yes, my jaw has suffered quite a blow and my ribs were injured under the pressure of someone's hefty body. Peeta's.

Remembering this, I begin to stir and attempt to sit up, but Gale holds me in place. "Don't. Just stay down for a bit, alright?" he says, although he loosens his grip on me.

"Gale...what— " I start, but Gale presses a finger to my lips, hushing me. That's fine. It hurts to speak in any case.

"Katniss, I can't tell you what happened because I don't know myself. But from my point of view, I can tell you that you're safe now. Boggs will be here any minute, and he'll be the one to give you answers. Okay?" Gale assures me in a steady voice, so I just nod my head, foggy from all the confusion.

I take the time waiting for Boggs to take a look at where I am. A bed, in which Gale and I presently reside. A door—I allow myself a sigh of relief at the sight, though I'm sure I won't be let out for quite some time. No windows and no television. Just four very blank, very white walls. I'm probably somewhere on the hovercraft.

The door swings open as Boggs steps in, bandaged and yet undeniably sturdy. His muscular build makes me feel safe, and I immediately know he must've been the one who saved me.

"Katniss," he says, observing me closely. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I lie. "Boggs, where's Peeta?"

And then he begins his explanation.

Boggs and the rest of the team, including Gale, rushed to the mansion once they heard the explosion I set off. Capitol rebels working inside of President Snow's mansion directed them underground, to the dungeon where Peeta was, to put it bluntly, trying to kill me. When Gale saw me pinned to the ground beneath Peeta, he dashed towards us and yanked him away from me. So I stand corrected. Gale saved me. Of course.

After knocking Peeta out cold, Boggs hauled him away and called for the hovercraft. Gale, infuriated and concerned, carried me back up the steps and outside.

Only, it wasn't easy. The Peacekeepers were fully aware of our presence and by the time Gale finished climbing the flight of stairs, still clutching me in his arms, guards swarmed at the team in all directions. Luckily, Boggs and the rest of the men were able to distract them long enough for Gale to bring me to the ladder leading up to the hovercraft. Boggs on the other hand, lost a member of the team during the fight as he was trying to escape the building. The rest got out safely as well, although witnessed an unfortunate scene in which two male Avoxes were speared in their throats. My stomach churns at the thought as I imagine blood spurting out of my two Capitol allies.

When Boggs finishes his account, his eyes drop to the floor as if to honor the member of the team he was not able to save. I don't let him off easy though, because he still hasn't answered my question.

"And Peeta?" I ask again.

"Katniss…" Boggs says to me, in the same hollow tone he used when he stepped in. "There's something you should know about Peeta, but I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you. We don't have all the details yet and Plutarch—"

"_Where is he?_" I shout, angrily now. I didn't have everyone go to such lengths to come up empty handed.

"He's here, we got him on board safely." Gale speaks for the first time since Boggs came in. He tightens his hold again, squeezing my hand to calm me. "It's just…I don't know. It's as if he's not really here at all."

Gale's words make no sense to me. However, I have no time to question him because Plutarch walks into the room to join the conversation. "Hello, Katniss. Glad to see you're up." He says lightly with a smile.

"Plutarch, what's wrong with Peeta? Back at the Capitol, why did he attack me?" My body shudders as I recall the look in Peeta's eyes when he saw me. Rabid. Vicious. Cruel.

"Well, the science of it all hasn't quiet been uncovered yet, although we can say that we believe the reason Peeta tried to, er—"

"Kill me?"

"Yes, yes, well, you see…Peeta, we believe, has been hijacked." Plutarch pauses, checking to see if I follow, and since clearly I don't, he says, "Hijacking is a method used by the Capitol to, uh, manipulate people. Katniss, do you remember your first games, when you set the tracker jackers loose and received a few of their stings?"

Of course I remember. How could I forget? The hallucinations and the intense throbbing…

"The delusions brought on by the mutts have, in a way, caused Peeta to turn against you." Plutarch's voice grows weaker at his last sentence.

"A-against me?" I stammer, "But how?"

"Using his most vivid memories of you and having them warped into scenes that never really occurred." Plutarch's eyes look into mine seriously. "I suggest, for now, you wait before you present yourself to him again." At this, Plutarch leaves the room, Boggs trailing behind him. Once the door shuts close, I let myself soak in everything that I have just heard.

Peeta. Safe. Here. Gone. Hijacked. Possibly never coming back to me ever again.

The striking pain in my chest is more profound now, and I can tell it isn't from the bruises. My throat is tight, eyes swelling with tears.

Peeta. The one who saved me so many times, offered me his arms during the darkest of nights. With each passing moment, he is irreversibly slipping away from me. I think of his soft touch as he tucks my hair behind my ear, his composed voice that speaks only sensible words, his warm lips that press against mine, providing me a kiss when I need it most. I think of him, the moments we shared, and ache as I realize they are gone forever. Memories for me, haunting scenes of disturbance for him.

I begin to sob at the revelation and bury my face in Gale's chest. He wraps his arms around me comfortingly and whispers to me silently, although I'm not listening. I'm thinking of Peeta and the fact that he's changed. But I'm not giving up yet. I'm not losing him. Not again.

I refuse to let go of the boy with the bread.


End file.
